


Poisoned by Prosperity

by thealphagate_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Established Relationship, F/M, M/M, Partner Betrayal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-15
Updated: 2009-06-15
Packaged: 2019-02-02 04:57:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12720090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealphagate_archivist/pseuds/thealphagate_archivist
Summary: Jack realizes what heâ€™s lost.





	Poisoned by Prosperity

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the archivists: this story was originally archived at [The Alpha Gate](https://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Alpha_Gate), a Stargate SG-1 archive, which began migration to the AO3 in 2017 when its hosting software, eFiction, was no longer receiving support. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are this creator and it hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Alpha Gate collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/thealphagate).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Challenge DAY 2 for Poisoned. A triple drabble.

As I crawl back into my bed from my bathroom, I wonder what Daniel’s doing. I have no right or cause to do it, I just miss him.

Tonight I went to one of those Fancy Dress functions for the Pentagon and I think it was the chicken. I hate the fancy food anyway and I thought it tasted off…kind of metalicky. Four or five glasses of champagne didn’t wash the flavor away. I made it home, but now I’m paying for it.

Funny how being sick as a damned dog puts things in perspective. Five years ago, as a Colonel, all it took was a phone call. Daniel would materialize in my bedroom and take care of me. If he couldn’t, he’d call Doc Frazer and I’d be whisked away to the mountain. Now as a General, no one will come.

That seems so long ago. The companionship, the caring, the warmth has gone. No, I left. I thought it was the right thing. That I could do more here. What an ego.

Now I’ve lost it all. My friends, my place in the universe, are all gone. I’ve been poisoned by more than chicken-coco van. I’ve been poisoned by pride, self-importance, lust and greed. 

I threw my life away and abandoned my love with betrayal and sarcasm. He had been gone, she had been easy. What a stupid bastard you are O’Neill. It would serve you right if you died right here in your own vomit of ptomaine poisoning. No one would care and it would serve you right.

I wish I could click my heels three times and go back to Cheyenne Mountain where my good wizard lives. I want to go home. But there is no home, not any more. And he’s probably not even there.


End file.
